


When Did All of His Cons Become Pros?

by ILoveABaddie



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Confident Harry, Getting Together, M/M, One Shot, Unsure Draco, humor I hope, pros and cons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-15
Updated: 2017-11-15
Packaged: 2019-02-02 21:29:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12734655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ILoveABaddie/pseuds/ILoveABaddie
Summary: Harry asks Draco to dinner but a decision of this magnitude deserves a bit of deliberation. Or, Draco makes a Pros and Cons lists to help him decide if dinner with Harry is worth the possible risks to his ego.





	When Did All of His Cons Become Pros?

**Author's Note:**

> I do not claim to own Harry Potter or Draco Malfoy, I just like writing little stories about what they could be up to. :)

I’m waiting in line at the newly opened cafe in the Ministry atrium when it happens, just minding my own business, enjoying the aroma of a decent cup of coffee _(thank Merlin they put this place in, the swill in the cafeteria was upsetting my delicate constitution)_ and contemplating a pastry to go with my Americano. I can feel his eyes on me before he speaks, it seems as though his emerald gaze has been directed my way quite a lot as of late and I find it distinctly unsettling. I silently curse Pansy for not being able to meet me as now I have no one to assist me in ignoring Potter when he sidles up next to me and clears his throat in an obvious attempt to get my attention. Thankfully this is the exact moment that the barista at the counter waves me up to place my order, I wouldn’t say that I am intentionally being indecisive with the pastry selection, but there is a slight chance that I am stalling to buy myself a few spare seconds before my inevitable interaction with The-Git-Who-Lived.

“The treacle tartlet is my personal favourite but you’d probably prefer that chocolate croissant if memory serves.” As I turn to scowl at Potter I am surprised by how close he is standing to me, he’s looking over my shoulder into the pastry case and leaning close as if us conversing were some kind of daily occurrence rather than something that hasn’t happened in several years.

I fight my instinct to flinch away from his proximity as this is obviously what he is hoping for and regret it the second I catch a whiff of his woodsy cologne, as now I am fighting the urge to lean into him. As my mind is attempting to process this new reaction to Potter I hear him chuckle and then order the chocolate croissant and a treacle tartlet as well as his own drink, before I even have a chance to be outraged he is paying for the lot and shuffling me off to the side to await our coffees.

“I suppose thanks are in order, Potter.” I say when I have finally given myself the mental shake that I needed. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“The pleasure is all mine, I’ve seen you around lately and I haven’t had a chance to talk to you yet, I guess today was just good timing,” he replies and grins at me.

“You’re too kind,” I’m struggling to keep my composure here; Potter and I don’t act this way around each other. Ever! “I only recently started working in the Department of Experimental Potions; I have been abroad the past four years earning my Masters Degree in Potion Brewing.”

“Wow, congratulations Malfoy, that’s an impressive achievement.” The barista sets down our drinks and Potter retrieves them and passes mine to me, our fingers brush and my breath hitches slightly. What the bloody hell is wrong with me, it’s just Potter? “Do you have time to sit? It would be great to catch up.” He gestures to a small table in the corner. _Would it, Potter? Would it really be great to catch up?_ My brain supplies helpfully.

I nod and follow him through the grouping of tables that have been set out around the cafe, several people wave or call out a salutation to Potter and he gives them all a friendly greeting in return. Clearly the years since the war have done nothing to quell his popularity and a pang of jealousy runs through me, the only thing I am unsure of is if it is due to Potter’s uncanny ability to make everyone around him swoon or the fact that the rest of these plebeians seem comfortable enough to chat idly with him.

We sit down and suddenly the quaint cafe table feels much too small as our knees bump into each other and Potter seems entirely too close. I am immediately uncomfortable and I try to convince myself that it is because the last time I saw Potter was under much less casual circumstances.

Almost five years ago Potter and I stood in this very atrium awkwardly shuffling our feet and avoiding eye contact like we would surely die if we didn’t. Potter had given testimony and even a pensive memory in defence of my mother and me in a bid to save us from imprisonment. Of course being that he is Harry What I Say Goes Potter the Wizengamot took it into great consideration and I was cleared of all charges, mother only having to serve a year of house arrest. After the hearing was adjourned Potter stopped me in front of the floo banks and produced my wand from inside his robes.

“I believe this belongs to you,” he had said to his scruffy trainers.

‘”Thank you, Potter,” I had replied to my own shoes. The weight of that phrase crushing me into the ground while Potter stood feet away not understanding how truly thankful I was.

And that was that.

“So, have the handed you the job of Head Auror yet?” I ask, it wouldn’t surprise me in the least if it was true but I need to let Potter know that I still think he’s an entitled prat.

He quirks a crooked smile and looks up at me through his impossibly dark lashes. “Actually, I decided not to join the Aurors. I work in Magical Games and Sports.” At my shocked look he continues. “After everything was said and done I felt like I had already spent too much of my life fighting dark wizards, I wanted a job that I would look forward to and have fun doing. Quidditch was always something I loved so it made sense. I have been working with the English team for the upcoming world cup, the coach is brilliant and I was happy to help her out with the scouting for the team.”

“Sounds like a perfect fit for you, do you still play?” I am genuinely curious, there was always something intriguing about Potter on a broom, I both admired and loathed his natural abilities.

“Just recreationally these days, what about you? You should come join us sometime. It generally ends at the Leaky with far too many pints but it’s always a great time.” He’s looking straight at me like he’s totally serious and expecting some sort of reply.

“As much as I’m sure the whole gang would be tickled to see me, I think I’ll pass,” I snort.

“Oh, come on Draco, it’s not like that anymore, I mean I can tell that you’re still kind of a git but they’ll get past it, I already have.”

“Since when am I _Draco_?”

“Since now, I’ve tried it and let me think,” he puts his index finger to his chin as though pondering something, “yep, I like it. You’ll be Draco now, deal with it.” I laugh in spite of myself.

“And I suppose I’ll be expected to call you Harry?”

“When you’re ready,” he grins at me again and I’m struck by the intensity in his eyes. “So, _Draco_ tell me about your work, the DEP works pretty closely with the Aurors, I’m actually surprised that you didn’t know I wasn’t down there.”

“I work in potion development, not analysis so I haven’t had an opportunity to visit the DMLE yet. I am working on a new potion that will be predominantly for the Auror Force but I work more closely with St. Mungo’s and the Unspeakables.” He nods and gestures for me to continue. “We are developing a potion that Aurors could carry in the field that would essentially halt the effects of a curse or hex until the victim could be brought in for medical care.”

“Kind of like a stasis charm, but on a whole person?”

“Yes, exactly like that, well put Potter.” He beams a bit at the praise.

“That’s brilliant, Draco. I’m sure with you at the helm the Aurors will be well equipped in no time, I can’t deny that you were always talented in potions even if Snape unjustly treated you like the sun shone out your arse.”

I can’t figure if I should laugh or scowl and my face must settle on some strange combination of the two because Potter busts out in a loud guffaw, he’s so openly interacting with me in a way that I never imagined he would. There’s a nagging feeling in the back of my mind that is just waiting for the other shoe to drop, any minute now Weasley and a ragtag band of Gryffindors will jump out to point and laugh at my naivety for believing that The Chosen One himself could find me interesting. In a bid to save myself from certain humiliation, I gather up my cup and plate to return to the counter.

“This has certainly been something, Potter but I really should be getting back.” I stand abruptly my chair scrapes loudly across the floor. Potter collects himself and gives me a curious look.

“Of course, I don’t want to keep you from your work,” he says and rises from his own seat, “I’ll just cut to the chase. I’d like to take you out to dinner, Draco. Are you free Saturday?”

There is something in the way that his mouth wraps around the CO sound at the end of my name that makes my knees wobble. I must be hallucinating because it sounds like he’s asking me out.

At the gaping fish look I must be sporting, he raises his eyebrows and fixes me with his gaze.

“To be clear, I mean like a date, I’d like to take you out on a date.”

“Why,” is the only word my brain remembers at this very pivotal moment in my life so I say it to him now.

“Because I’d like to find out more about you and your life these last five years, because I have always been strangely drawn to you, because no one else around here is willing to be upfront with me when I’m being a prat, but mostly because I find you intensely attractive; is that enough of a reason?”

I can’t process what is happening at this moment, so I spin on my heel and stalk across the atrium towards the safety of the lifts and away from Potter and his intoxicating scent and hypnotic green eyes.

“So, you’ll owl me and let me know then? About Saturday,” he shouts and I turn back to gawk at him, he winks and smiles and then casually waves at me before watching me get on the lift where I promptly hyperventilate.

 ~~~~~

I’ve had a few hours now to properly assess the situation and yet I am still utterly confused by Potter’s behaviour. Who does that? I mean who just comes right out with full honesty and tells someone exactly what they want and why? Fucking Gryffindors, that’s who! He did seem genuine and that is perhaps the most perplexing thing of all. Potter and I have the most complicated possible history and yet he has decided to just be fully upfront and make his intentions clear. There has got to be a catch.

I’d be lying if I said that the possibility of a romantic evening with Potter was not interesting. I mean there is a tiny chance that I may have possibly in a little way almost fancied him while we were at Hogwarts, just a smidge. But let’s be real here, me and Potter, it’s almost preposterous.

There is only one thing to do, a Pros and Cons list.

After the fallout of the war I swore to myself that I would never be pressured into a decision again, that whole paternal influence fiasco turned out very badly indeed. A true Slytherin does not rush into things without properly weighing their options. It is only natural that I would ensure that any major decision in my life would be carefully calculated for the best possible personal outcome. I started making Pros and Cons lists after my Father went to Azkaban and I didn’t have him breathing down my neck, nudging me towards the life choices that he wanted me to make. I admit that at first it was almost debilitating how indecisive I felt, making elaborately detailed lists for every invitation to a tea. But over time I was able to relax and see that not all of life’s choices are list worthy, which was when I learned how to mentally catalogue Pros and Cons in a much more efficient manner.

For example, an invitation to lunch with Pansy would simply merit a quick mental list. Pros: social engagement with a dear friend, an enjoyable meal, probably some decent gossip if Pansy is on her game and the chance to get dressed up in something worth being seen in. Cons: possible unfriendly reception at the restaurant due to Death Eater affiliation. In this instance the Pros win and lunch would be scheduled, _simple_. Now this whole date with Potter business might be just such an occasion that a full blown list is in order, I’d go so far as to say this is anything _but_ simple.

**Pros and Cons of Accepting a Date with Potter**

**CONS**

  1. His hair is still absolutely ridiculous. I mean how can he possibly be taken seriously with what looks like a bird’s nest built in a hurricane on top of his head? The man must make zero attempts to tame it; he walks around looking perpetually like he just rolled out of bed. I wonder what Potter looks like when he’s just rolled out of bed, or rolled around in bed for that matter. I’ll bet that his hair is softer than it looks, I wonder if he’d let me run my hand through it if we went on a date. He probably would if I asked, he seems awfully keen on upfront honestly. I’m getting sidetracked here, his hair is a chaotic mess but he’d probably let me touch it. Feels less like a Con than I originally thought.
  2. He dresses like a slob. At least that is how I always remember him from school. I need to try to remember how he was dressed earlier, I was clearly too distracted by his too soft looking hair to pay any heed to his clothing. Ok, thinking back now. Right, he was wearing a crisply pressed white shirt, sleeves rolled up because of course he would. No tie if I am remembering correctly but his collar was unbuttoned, yes that’s it, I remember because I could see the delicate dip of his throat where his collar bones met. The shirt, right, back to the shirt, it fit him well around his surprisingly broad shoulders which where accentuated by the waistcoat he had on. Yes! It’s all coming back now. Well shit, it seems as though he was dressed properly for once in his life. If this is the way he dresses at work I wonder what he’d wear out on a date. Fuck! That also feels a bit Pro-like.
  3. He’s an uncouth git. Yes, he’s got terrible manners and couldn’t possibly escort me on an appropriate evening. Although, he was quite charming while we had coffee. He asked about my work and listened intently to my answers; he complimented me on my accomplishments and was generally very polite. Even I can’t talk myself into this being a Con. He was Prince Fucking Charming and I can’t deny it.
  4. The dammed glasses. I spent years razzing him about those hideous glasses and he still has them. I can’t fathom why someone with literally the greenest eyes on earth would hide them behind ratty old dark framed glasses. There must be some kind of charm to correct his vision. I wonder if the charm tampers with the colour of his eyes, we wouldn’t want that. Every single time I made eye contact with him today it made my breath stutter in my throat, all of his honesty translates right through his eyes. Looking back I don’t even remember if he was wearing glasses today, he probably was, he always is and if he hadn’t been then I would certainly have noticed. The fact that I can’t remember only proves that the glasses are of no consequence. Looks like I am making this about his beautiful eyes and counting it as a Pro. You’d think my subconscious is rooting for Potter here.
  5. Ok it’s time to get serious here, this is a big decision and I can’t be blinded by my obvious attraction to Potter, I’ll just admit that he’s gorgeous and move on.
  6. That last one wasn’t really a Pro or a Con, I can sense the obliteration of my list already. This isn’t even a list item either, I’m actually rambling now.
  7. What if he’s just fucking with me? I wanted serious and here it is. If I’m being honest with myself this is my only actual concern. In my heart I can’t let myself believe that Harry Potter of all people would want to associate with me, Draco Malfoy.



**PROS**

  1. I might just get what I’ve wanted as long as I’ve known him.



Pros win.

I have to let myself take this chance because I know I’ll hate myself if I don’t. And hey, if he is just fucking with me in a bid to publicly humiliate me at least I’ll be able to plot revenge with a good old fashioned cunning plan, Pansy is always up for a revenge plan.

I draft a quick note to Potter before I lose my nerve and send it off with Ainsworth, he seems irritated as I tie the note to his leg, no doubt because of the hour but I have to get this out now.

_Potter,_

_I would be happy to join you for dinner on Saturday, please send details and floo address to me at your earliest convenience._

_Regards,_

_DM_

Not thirty minutes later Ainsworth returns with the same scroll tied to his claw, he seems in a much better mood now, the flight must have been good for him.

_Dear Draco,_

_This is a nice owl you’ve got, very friendly._

_Looking forward to Saturday, I’ll pick you up, it’s the proper thing. Say 7?_

_Yours,_

_Harry_

Merlin! Even my owl has a crush on Harry Potter. I look back at Potter’s reply scrawled at the bottom of my note and I am struck by two words, _Dear_ and _Yours_ , maybe this isn’t such as risk after all.

 ~~~~~~

  
I’m strangely calm when Saturday night rolls around. I am not sure where Potter is planning to take me so I dress in a muggle suit to be safe, five years in Paris opened my eyes to the world of muggle fashion and I have to admit there is something about the fit of a well tailored designer suit that you just don’t get in wizard’s robes. I’m giving myself a final once over in the hallway mirror at two minutes past 7 when there is a soft knock on my door.

“Here we go, don’t over think it,” I tell my reflection.

I open the door and there he is, Harry. I can’t imagine calling him Potter when he is standing there looking perfect in a forest green shirt and grey dinner jacket with dark well fitting jeans that hug his long legs just right. His hair is suitably tamed and I make a mental note that he is in fact wearing glasses and they are still round, but they have delicate silver frames that don’t hide the beauty of his eyes.

“Draco, you look incredible,” he stumbles the words a bit, some of his casual coolness cracking around the edges. “This is for you.” He hands me a single white daffodil. Narcissus, I’m stunned by the thoughtfulness of the gesture and make a mental note to bring him a lily as soon as the opportunity presents itself.

“Thank you, Harry it’s beautiful,” his eyes widen and then soften a moment later at the use of his first name. He had told me to use it when I was ready and I finally feel ready, for all of this, for whatever this could become and for all of the possibilities that this one choice holds for the future.


End file.
